


Say it with Flowers

by madsthenerdygirl



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Fluff, Flynn is Also a Little Shit, Language of Flowers, Multi, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Wyatt is a Little Shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 11:45:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14831673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madsthenerdygirl/pseuds/madsthenerdygirl
Summary: Lucy runs a flower shop. Flynn and Wyatt have some very specific things they'd like to say to each other. Using flowers.





	Say it with Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> Taken from this post: http://fanficy-prompts.tumblr.com/post/145995837291/flower-shop-au

Wyatt Logan was going to murder Flynn.

He was going to murder him and dump his sorry ass where nobody would ever find the body, and then he was going to break out the champagne.

But first.

He could still hear Flynn’s sarcastic comment ringing in his ears: “Maybe if you’d bought Jess a few more flowers…”

So, Mr. I Know Romance thought flowers would just solve everything, did he?

Wyatt stormed into the florist’s, the one down the street that he’d only ever kind of noticed, the way that you did the shops in your neighborhood. It would be hard for it not to catch his eye now and again, what with the colorful bouquets sitting out front. Preston’s, it was called. Simple name, Wyatt could appreciate that. Nothing cheesy or fancy.

He walked right up to the counter, where the blonde girl was eyeing him with a look of concern. He pulled out twenty bucks and slapped it onto the counter. “How do I passive-aggressively say ‘fuck you’ in flower?”

The blonde girl stared at him for a moment, seemed to realize he was serious, then called out, “Lucy?”

A tiny brunette emerged from the back and…

Wow.

Red lipstick, dark sleek hair, sparkling eyes… Wyatt felt like he’d been hit by a truck.

“Hi,” the brunette, Lucy, said brightly. “How can I help you?”

“He wants to tell someone fuck you,” the blonde said. “Preferably in a passive-aggressive manner.”

Lucy bit her lip like she was holding in laughter. “Okay. Um, can’t say I’ve had that request before. But we can do that.”

The blonde snorted.

Lucy cleared her throat. “So, um, Amy, could you please get me…” She grabbed a notebook and pen, tapping the latter against the counter for a moment before starting to write. “Geraniums, foxglove, meadowsweet, yellow carnations, and orange lilies?”

“Sure thing,” the blonde, Amy, said, disappearing into the rows of flowers.

“What do they all mean?” Wyatt asked.

Lucy turned to show him the list, pointing with her pen. “Geraniums mean stupidity, foxglove means insincerity, meadowsweet is uselessness, yellow carnations say ‘you have disappointed me’ and orange lilies mean hatred.”

“This is gonna be one hell of a bouquet,” Amy said, emerging with her arms full of flowers. “A purple and orange bouquet.”

“Oh great, so it’ll look annoying too.” Wyatt grinned. “Perfect.”

“You really do not like this person,” Lucy noted as she started to put the flowers together, arranging them on top of some tissue paper and cellophane.

“Trust me, he’s a complete asshole.”

“Sounds like there’s a history there,” Lucy said, smiling in amusement.

Wyatt shrugged. Something about her made her easy to talk to. Or it could be that he just hadn’t been able to talk to anyone really about stuff like this. Things were still awkward between him and Jess even though the divorce had been finalized, and he and Dave didn’t really discuss feelings while they were working a case. “This person… I don’t know, started out as someone I thought I could be friends with, but he’s such a dick… anyway. I don’t know. Maybe we got off on the wrong foot, I was going through a divorce and pretty damn prickly.”

Didn’t excuse Flynn poking at said divorce, though. He knew it was a fucking sore spot, that it was pretty much all Wyatt’s fault that it had fallen apart.

Lucy hummed in sympathy. “Well, hopefully this helps get some of your frustration out. And hey, I doubt he’ll know the meaning so maybe he’ll think it’s a peacemaking gesture?”

“Maybe.” He honestly didn’t care all that much what Flynn thought. It was the sending it part that mattered. “Thanks, by the way.”

“Come back any time,” Lucy said, winking at him.

Huh.

“I’m Wyatt, by the way. Wyatt Logan.” He held out his hand.

Lucy shook it, her palm warm and soft in his.

 

* * *

 

Lucy was just preparing to close up shop when the door burst open for the second time that day. She jerked her head up, thinking—not hoping, dammit Amy, shut up—that it might be Wyatt Logan again.

What? The guy was hot, didn’t mean this was the start of an epic romance, no matter what her sister said.

But it wasn’t Wyatt. Instead it was, um…

Look, if the guy was a tree, then call Lucy a squirrel. Hot. Damn.

The guy—who had to be about a foot taller than her, wow—slapped his wallet on the counter. “How do I tell someone ‘if that’s what you’re into’ in flower?”

“What?”

The guy seemed to realize that he probably wasn’t being all that clear. “Sorry.” Lucy could hear the accent, but she couldn’t name it. Eastern European? “How do I tell someone I want to fuck them in flower?”

Lucy stared at him. “That’s…”

“Bold, I’m aware,” the man said dryly. He pulled out his phone and opened the camera, showing her a picture.

Lucy nearly choked. That was _her_ bouquet. The one she’d made for Wyatt earlier.

“I got this from my neighbor. He lives in the apartment across from me. I looked up the flowers and I know what they mean."

So this was… Lucy tried to remember the name. Flynn. That had been what Wyatt had put on the card.

“It means fuck you,” Flynn clarified.

“Yes,” Lucy said faintly. “Yes it does.”

“So how do I tell him, ‘if that’s what you’re into’?” Flynn asked.

“Uh…” just her luck the two hottest guys she’d seen in months turned out to be gay. “Well, I can make you something, if you want.”

“Please.”

Lucy went about the shop, grabbing flowers. “You know, judging by that bouquet, I’d say this guy doesn’t like you very much.”

“We got off on the wrong foot,” Flynn replied. “We’ve both been going through some rough patches and we’ve kind of been taking it out on each other. But he’s a ten out of ten, if you know what I mean.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Lucy replied, silently cursing her existence and the cruel, cruel hand of fate.

“Kind of like yourself,” Flynn went on.

Lucy nearly dropped the bouquet. “Sorry?”

Flynn arched a very suggestive eyebrow at her.

Lucy could feel herself blushing. “Um, sure you want to be flirting with the florist who’s making you a ‘let’s have sex’ bouquet for someone else?”

“I don’t mind being shared.”

Lucy wondered if this was some elaborate prank, if Amy had somehow orchestrated this. Lucy was regretting telling her sister her sexual fantasies. “Uh…”

Flynn went a little wide-eyed, like he only just then realized that might not be received in the best light. “Of course, most people are, shall we say, one and done—”

“No, I mean—” Was this conversation really happening right now? “I wasn’t sure if you were serious.”

Flynn gave her a slow, sinful smile. “Very.”

Lucy quickly dropped her gaze down to the flowers and began to arrange them. “Right. So. Mauve carnations says you fantasize about them. Corianders represent the lust you have for them. It also means you feel a bit guilty about it. Coral and orange roses represent passion and desire.”

She wrapped it all up, then handed him the bouquet. “I’m the florist who made the first bouquet, by the way. I met Wyatt. If he’s into it…”

She grabbed her notepad, writing down her number, then tearing it off and passing it to Flynn. “Give me a call.”

He winked at her. “Have a lovely night, Miss Lucy.”

Amy was never, _ever_ going to believe this.

 

* * *

 

Wyatt was at the flower shop the moment it opened. “What does this mean?” he asked, showing it to Lucy.

She stared at the picture on his phone, her cheeks going pink. “Um…”

“Let me rephrase that. Does it mean what I think it means?”

“If you think it means this guy wants to fuck you, then yes,” Lucy replied. “It means what you think it means.”

Wyatt stared at the picture, then back up at her. Okay, so Flynn was… attractive. Which was kind of like saying Godzilla was on the large side. But Wyatt had never thought that. Well. He was a mess, wasn’t he? He was a cop who was married to his job to the point where his wife left him, he’d had a shitty upbringing and a shitty outlook on life to show for it and he hadn’t eaten a vegetable in a month. What the hell did Mr. My Job is Classified Garcia Flynn want with someone like Wyatt?

“Is he being sarcastic, do you think?” Wyatt asked.

Lucy looked down at the picture. “If I had to guess?” she said, her voice higher pitched than before and her cheeks even pinker. “No? He’s not?”

Wyatt leaned back to look out the window. “Huh. I don’t see pigs flying.”

Lucy laughed. Wyatt turned back to look at her, smiling in spite of himself. She was adorable. And she wasn’t put off by this weird mating-dance thing that, apparently, he and Flynn were engaged in.

What the hell.

“Should I be feeling bad for wanting to ask for your number right now?” Wyatt asked.

“What about Mr. Bouquet here?” Lucy replied.

Wyatt’s brain short-circuited a little because Lucy and Flynn were both gorgeous but both of them together… “I think you should meet him. Something tells me you two would get along well.”

Lucy shrugged, smiling. “Well, I suppose you two are just going to have to sort this whole thing out and buy me dinner then, aren’t you?”

Wyatt grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”

 

* * *

 

Amy sat on the counter, bemoaning her life. As usual.

“You get not one, but _two_ burning hot men?” she groused. “And where, I ask, is my torrid love affair, hmm?”

“I would hardly call our relationship a ‘torrid love affair’,” Lucy replied. “We spent the weekend painting the new apartment and then we ordered Chinese and watched John Oliver.”

She stepped back, tilting her head to examine the bouquets. They looked about as good as they could be, given the flower combination. Honestly, she was never going to understand some people’s wedding colors.

But she was paid to make the bouquets, so she just kept all the judgment—and there was a lot of it—in her head.

The door opened and Flynn entered, Wyatt trailing behind him. Lucy grinned, vaulting over the counter so that Flynn could catch her around the waist. “Hey there,” he said, kissing her before setting her down so she could greet Wyatt the same way.

Amy made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat.

“I know, right?” said another voice. “They’re sickening.”

Lucy turned to see an attractive blonde entering the shop, a smirk on her face.

“Lucy,” Wyatt said, sounding nervous. “This is Jess. Jess, this is Lucy, my and Flynn’s girlfriend.”

Jess shook her hand. “I’ve heard a lot of good things about you,” Jess said.

“Same here, Wyatt’s so glad you two are able to be friends,” Lucy told her, meaning every word.

And then she felt herself literally elbowed out of the way so that Amy could get in there. “So you’re single, you said?” Amy asked, smiling flirtatiously.

…oh hell no.


End file.
